Drag the inflatable boat out of the room on the side

Where the old swing remains, mangled by ropes

Drag out the oars, flicking the water hoping 

The water snakes weave out of the way. 

Undone, for the first time in years, 

Swim out and clamber onto the boat, 

You never forgot how; although joints ache 

And bones are weak, it all returns in need, you say.

So sure in my solitude, imagining voices, noises

I follow with my November eyes; you stare 

Over your shoulder maybe watching me, from far,

From another day, how smoothly you sailed away. 

The wind tugs at every boat in our lives, the scaffolding

Where I sat and fished while you called out

Trying to get the ducks in a row. Here the trees

Sweep to the ground, touching the water in play. 

This home is mine and always will be

Although it is always shifting, the water receding

And returning to take what it will.  

There are days I find myself in my shades of grey

 

And then on days when I leave between the stoop 

That is no more and you stand there till you fade,

Into the long song of the dusk, each time I leave

I swear it is the last time, come what may.

 

Time passes faster when I do not search, 

Looking for you in every stranger, for answers.

I do not know your face, I only carry your voice

Deep inside my nights, telling me it’s okay.

And the house, the pond the garden is no more,

Cuckolded into high rise buildings, with no distinction,

How long can I carry memory till it fades, yet I return 

A stranger in a playground for forever and a day.